Beautiful -Request-
by ringaroundtherollins
Summary: Dean Ambrose is feeling glum after a Raw match, and Roman Reigns is out to prove his worth. Takes place after the November 2nd Raw, following the 5-on-5 traditional SS match, Team Reigns versus Team Rollins. Ambreigns. Steamy, smutty goodness. LONG OVERDUE one-shot request for 2345Nayababy.


Roman Reigns strengthened his grip on the top rope. Both arms trembled from the exertion. An irate Samoan warrior was nobody's friend.

 _Dean, get over here and tag me in so I can shut him up._

Instead Reigns was forced to carry on watching Kevin Owens and his former brother, Seth Rollins, give Dean Ambrose hell. The rest of their teammates in this five-on-five match, a homage to what was expected at the next WWE pay-per-view, had been eliminated. It came down to what was once the Shield, and a snide Owens.

Owens lifted Dean to his feet by his hair. "You like this guy!?" he screamed to the Universe. "Huh!?" He heaved Dean onto his shoulders like a knapsack, then cast him back to the mat, driving his knee into Dean's gut. Dean crumpled in pain, his face a visual representation of his physical agony.

" _Ambrose! Ambrose_!" Owens mocked, parodying the audience that had been chanting Dean's name just moments ago. Roman was nearly snarling in the corner, on the apron. He needed in this match. Needed to protect Dean.

They were best friends, after all.

Owens kicked Dean while he was still down. Then he twisted his burly figure to stare Roman down.

"This your buddy, Roman!?" he asked, waving an arm over Dean's fallen form.

Roman could feel tears surfacing in the corner of his eyes, hot tears of rage. _He is. And I will destroy you for hurting him_.

Things only got worse when Owens pinned Dean in place and Rollins readied himself for a flying tackle. Roman pressed his hands over his head. _Come on, Dean, get out of there! Please_!

Rollins signaled for Owens to bring Dean closer to him before the attack. "You understand me?" the weasel spat in his face. "There's nothing you can do. You are a piece of crap!"

Dean unexpectedly broke free of Owens's arms imprisoning him and knocked Seth in the face, sending him off the apron. He turned and had his vengeance upon Owens with blow after blow after blow to the face. Rollins tried to make a return for his partner, but ended up knocking Owens to the mat in his leap by mistake. Dean shoved Rollins out of the ring and finished Owens off with Dirty Deeds.

Roman was losing it on the apron, partially thrilled that Dean had gotten his revenge, partially agitated to play a role in this fight as well.

But Dean had it. He had it.

All that remained was the former Shield.

Seth Rollins tried to run. Twice. Typical. Always the coward, always the weasel. Dean rushed after him, intending to properly eliminate their former brother before an escape was made. But Rollins had other plans.

He seized a chair from behind a barricade and rammed it into Dean's ribcage.

"Dean!" Roman screamed.

The bell rolled, signaling a disqualification.

Roman sprang off the apron, charging at Rollins. "STOP!" he bellowed. Rollins beat him to the hit, drilling Roman's stomach with the chair. He raised the familiar weapon up high and swung it down with might into Dean's back. Spun around and bashed Roman's back.

A dazed Roman couldn't fight back as Seth pushed him back into the ring. He could hear Rollins asking the crowd, "Looks familiar, doesn't it?"

 _Seth. You fucking bastard_.

Seth hopped into the ring to continue his assault on Roman. Roman was ready, launching a Superman punch into Seth's face. Seth rolled out of the ring, recovering his championship belt somewhere along the way. Roman could only make it as far as his knees. Everything hurt, even taking in desperate breaths. As he scurried like a mouse far away from the ring, just ahead of a wave of boos and hisses, Dean joined Roman on the mat. They were declared the winners of the match by disqualification. Roman's music hit.

Celebration was due.

But neither Roman nor Dean were feeling up for it.

Especially not Dean, Roman realized as they plodded backstage towards the locker rooms after the program.

"I dare Kevin Owens try to hit me like that again," Dean barked. His fingers rolled in and out of fist formation at his side. "I _dare_ him."

"It's alright," Roman said, dropping his arm over Dean's shoulder. "It's over. We did it. We won."

"We didn't win. We didn't lose, but we didn't win. That fucking Rollins came in with cheap shots, _again_. I could have had him, Roman. I could have."

"He's a rat."

"You're damn right. Among hundreds of other less kind words going through my head." Dean pushed the door to his locker room open. Roman could practically see steam rising from his head. He followed him inside despite having his own locker room. "I should have had it, Roman."

"You did your best."

Dean flung his shirt off. Roman pretended the sight of a shirtless, cut Dean Ambrose didn't make his heart batter against his ribs, better damage than Seth Rollins had ever done to him. Dean's sides and back were bruised from the attack. Roman frowned at the sight of them.

"You alright?"

"No, Roman. I'm not." Dean ran a hand over his face. When he drew it from his eyes, Roman noticed a new redness in his eyes. Bullets of sweat and tears fusing down his cheeks. "I'm so sick of this. Even a year and a half later, he knows how to make me feel like absolute shit. And now I've got Owens up my ass, and that doesn't help."

"Dean, don't buy into what he says," Roman encouraged. "He's an angry little child who feels the need to make others feel like shit because he has trouble feeling good about himself."

"Are we talking about Seth still, or KO?"

"Both."

Dean smiled weakly. "Wish I could say I'm not like them. Sometimes it's hard. I get into the ring some days and I feel pretty damn good about who I am. What I do. Other times…I've got Owens and Rollins yapping in my face, and as hard as I try, they just—" Dean's shift fell to the tile floor. "Sorry. Don't mean to get all _One Tree Hill_ over here. I just don't feel so hot right now."

"If it helps, you are."

"I am what."

"Hot."

Dean smiled a little bigger this time. Looked more real. Roman liked seeing that smile. He decided to prod it, poke it, see if he could make it grow a bit.

"You think I'm hot?"

"You kidding? You're gorgeous, Dean. Inside and out."

Roman caught the burn on Dean's cheeks. Was he feeling flushed? Humbled? Better?

"Says you," Dean said, voice softening. "I mean, look at you."

"No, Dean, look at you." Roman didn't want this about him. This was not his time. This was Dean's time. Roman was here to prove to Dean what he might not have believed about himself.

He was worthy. Deserving. Wonderful.

And, in Roman's eyes, perfect.

Roman cupped his fingers underneath Dean's chin and raised his head up. From here Roman had an outstanding view of those beautiful eyes. They might have been red, damp, slightly swollen from the glum Dean was combating with aggression.

They were still beautiful.

Dean took an unsteady breath in through parted lips.

Roman captivated them against his own.

The kiss, gentle for but a moment, fortified into a lustful thrust back against Roman. Steady, strong, and sweet, intoxicating and enthralling. Roman felt dizzy, lightheaded, blissful. He could only hope with an ache that Dean felt the same way.

"You're beautiful," Roman breathed when the kiss broke for a breath. "So fucking beautiful, Dean Ambrose."

Dean's only response was restless panting. It was getting good. Roman wanted to make it even better.

Roman shifted his hands behind Dean's head as he drifted down for another kiss. His skilled hands crept down Dean's back, avoiding the areas where he was hurt, and gripped his hips. Roman pulled Dean's body tight against his. It was no longer a question whether or not Ambrose was positively effected by this. The proof was in the bulge in his blue jeans.

Roman could feel his own proof.

He broke the kiss again, to Dean's chagrin, only to lock the door in case anyone decided to knock and try to barge in. He stripped of his own shirt, tossing it aside, and returned to Dean quicker than he'd left to resume the fervor.

Roman put a hand behind Dean's neck and brushed his lips against the soft skin of Dean's nape. Dean shivered, unable to hold back a moan as Roman opened his mouth and scattered kisses down the neck, across the collarbone, then down his chest. Roman's kisses evolved into simple drags of the tongue across Dean's cut chest. He raised a hand and tweaked one of Dean's stiffening nipples, gliding over the other one with his tongue. Dean moaned, longer, louder. He nearly slumped over from whatever electric sensation Roman was responsible for. Dean clenched Roman's hair tight with both hands to uphold himself. Roman kept on, drawing his tongue lower and lower down.

"God, you're fucking amazing, Roman," Dean whimpered. "Seriously…I can't…"

"You're perfect, Dean," Roman said, splashing warmth over him. "In every single way. Totally and absolutely perfect." His lips vibrated above the waistline of Dean's jeans. "But you know. I'd love to worship you _all_ over."

Dean gasped. "This is—"

"Yes." Roman fingered the button, all that held him back from a beautiful bare Dean Ambrose. "May I?"

"O-of course, Roman, but I'll warn you, I'm not—"

Roman disallowed him to continue with whatever self-hating comment would follow. He unfastened the button and tugged Dean's jeans until they dropped to his ankles.

"Wow," Roman breathed. Dean's big cock was stiff and throbbing. An ache Roman couldn't wait to relieve, to satisfy. "Beautiful. Jesus, _I_ feel unworthy now."

"Not even," Dean spoke gently.

Roman raised to his feet. He brought his arms around Dean tightly and towed him to the floor. Roman lathered his hand up with his tongue, then pressed his lips against Dean's as his hand took Dean's cock in a firm hold.

Dean gasped at the new feeling. It forced the kiss to recess, until Roman got it started again. Roman rubbed Dean's dick up and down, up and down. Dean groaned and panted and swore through the kiss.

"Fuck, Roman, oh my God, _yes_ , shit, shit yes, oh, Roman…"

"That's right," Roman said, feeling confident. Aggressive. Yet still a slave to his Dean. Wanting to make _him_ happy, pleasure _him_. Roman would go to the ends of the earth for Ambrose. "Feel that? Feels good, huh? You make me feel so good, Ambrose. Look at you. You're so beautiful. So sexy. God, I love you, Dean…"

Dean opened his eyes, stared them into Roman's. "You…you love me?"

Roman blushed. It had come out, as long as he'd been holding back the words, obvious as the truth of them were. Not just to him, perhaps not to Dean, but to everyone.

"I do. Of course I do."

"I love you too, Roman. Always have."

"That so? How much do you love me?"

"So much. Too much. More than anything."

"I love you even more than that." Roman resumed rubbing Dean up and down. Up and down. Took Dean's bottom lip in a nibble. Elicited more groans of unadulterated ecstasy from the Lunatic Fringe. Roman worked Dean over from the inside out. Their sweaty bodies meshed together in a perfect equation, a chemical reaction, hearts alive and burning with the purest love to ever be known in the world.

"Keep going, Roman," Dean was begging him now. His body quaked beneath Roman. "Please…almost…just keep going…"

"Hold onto me, Dean," Roman said, tired yet feeling so great. "Hold on. And don't ever let go."

"I won't—" Dean interrupted himself with a gasp. He was coming.

In the quickest response Roman moved down and slid his lips over the head of Dean's penis. His hand didn't stop moving in its pleasurable motion as Roman sucked hard, taking in every ounce of white discharge from Dean's pulsating cock. Dean cried out in delicious welcoming. He rattled from head to toe as Roman finished him off.

He relaxed with a great sigh.

Roman wiped his lips of Dean's sexual residue. He was grinning wide, proud of himself for doing so well on Dean, proud of Dean for taking it like a champ.

Dean could hardly move, except to rest his hands on his forehead and take in deserving breaths. "Jesus, Roman."

"You believe me now, Dean?"

"Hard not to, after that. Holy shit."

Against the cool and most likely disgusting tile, Roman laid beside Dean Ambrose. He opened his arms and enveloped Dean, keeping him off the uncomfortable floor. He stroked Dean's arm with spidery fingers, then moved them to Dean's dirty hair.

"Beautiful," Roman whispered in his ear. "Absolutely beautiful."

"Thank you, Roman. You sure know how to make a guy feel special."

 _Mission accomplished_. It was a mission Roman planned to carry on repeat for the rest of his days here. Nobody could take Dean away from him.

He just held Dean there. Close. Tight.

This was forever.


End file.
